


A Stitch in Time Saves Nothing

by ships_mcshipface (siderealOtaku)



Series: Old Accursed, New Tricks [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkwardly Timed Boners, Bodyswap, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Good Ardyn Izunia, Happy Alternate Universe, M/M, Magic, Nobody is Evil Alternate Universe, Nude Photos, Photography, Sexting, Teasing, Texting, blatant misuse of ardyn's powers, consensual five-way relationship between ardyn and the boys, just a tiny bit of politics, making up stuff about ardyn's powers, polyship roadtrip + 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:01:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siderealOtaku/pseuds/ships_mcshipface
Summary: Ardyn and Noctis discover a....unique...use for Ardyn's illusion powers. Unfortunately, the poor Chancellor's stuck in a meeting and missing all the fun!





	A Stitch in Time Saves Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I guess this is a series now. Which probably also means that I need to do some more brainstorming / worldbuilding with this AU, because I don't have much beyond "peace negotiations actually went well and not-evil Ardyn is secretly sleeping with the Chocobros on his official visits to Insomnia" 
> 
> I'm really eager to write more about all the fun, sexy stuff the boys can get up to with the various powers and skills they have. Feel free to make suggestions/requests for future installments in this series!

Adapting a look of deliberate, practiced disinterest becomes a significantly more difficult task when the facial muscles you are trying to school are not your own. Luckily, Noctis Lucis Caelum is the sort of guy who has a bit of a reputation for spending entire council meetings looking like he'd rather be babysitting a pack of catoblepas.

The two-thousand-plus year old immortal looks through the warp-strike blue eyes of a twentysomething prince and attempts to wordlessly communicate to Secretary Claustra to just _get to the point, already_. She's been talking for close to fifteen minutes about a damaged bridge in Altissia which is having significant negative impact on both trade and tourism. Ardyn figured out the most efficient solution twelve minutes ago - Titan has as much of a soft spot as a giant rock-creature _can_ have for Lady Lunafreya, and a prayer or two from her would be more than enough to entice the Archaean to fix the bridge himself. Unfortunately, Noctis isn't supposed to have such intimate knowledge of the Astrals and their ways, so he can't pitch the idea without giving up the game.

He takes a bitter comfort in at least knowing that the Prince he is currently imitating is probably feeling no better himself. The "Imperial Chancellor" - aka Noctis clad in Ardyn's visage - is stuck in a planning meeting for the next Founder's Day celebration, debating which Empire dignitaries it would be best to invite as a show of solidarity. (This had been the reason for today's switch in the first place - Ardyn Izunia is a patient man, but he was _not_ going to spend two hours discussing a festival honoring Somnus.) In fact, Noctis is probably having an even _worse_ time, as he's expressed more than once his distaste for the many layers of heavy fabric which comprise the Chancellor's traditional attire.

(Ardyn loves that boy and his retainers with all his ancient, withered heart, really he does, but he despairs of any of them ever gaining the slightest bit of appreciation for fine couture. It's _fashion,_ for Shiva's sake, not "some hobo outfit he scrounged from seven different dumpsters".)

Noctis's phone buzzes from the pocket of not-Noctis's black cargo pants. _Ah, yes, right on time. Our beloved Prince complaining about the heat, or boredom, or Lord Ravus saying something idiotic again. _

Ardyn's heart flutters from within Noctis's chest (for all that the Chancellor mentally denies it was doing any such thing). He's eager to see what sort of message his easily distractible lover has sent, but Claustra is still talking, and he can't check Noctis's phone without drawing unwanted attention to himself. He makes a convincing Prince of Lucis at a distance, but he knows his masquerade won't stand up to close inspection if "Noctis" actually has to significantly interact with anyone here. Claustra may be a bore, but she's savvy and observant, and as for Marshal Leonis, well...it says something that Ardyn is more worried about "Noctis's" ruse being discovered by Cor than by the boy's own _father._

_Speak of the Infernian, and he shall appear..._ Cor stirs from his position guarding the door and whispers something in the King's ear, low and urgent. Regis's eyes widen ever so slightly as he nods. Claustra _finally_ stops her droning to acknowledge the disturbance.

"Something the matter, Regis?"

"Ah...begging your pardon, Camelia. Nothing which need interrupt our discussion. The Marshal was merely informing me that the Founder's Day planning is...not progressing smoothly. Lord Ravus has expressed feeling slighted due to the Niflheim delegation sending Commodore Highwind as their representative, rather than Chancellor Izunia as initially planned. It seems that the Chancellor's whereabouts are currently entirely unaccounted for."

It takes all of his thousands of years of self-control to keep the body's eyebrows from flying up in shock. _Noctis! That little... _ In the distraction provided by the King's announcement, Ardyn manages to slip Noctis's phone out of his pocket and read the flurry of recent messages.

The first thing he notices is that the messages are from "himself" - from Noctis inhabiting his body and using his phone, that is. The second is that the brat of a Lucian Prince has changed his username in the messaging app Prompto had set up for them to "Hard-on Ass-zunia."

_Very funny, Noct. _

The first several messages are brief texts, all featuring Noctis's signature appalling grammar and genuine disregard for the rules of punctuation:

** _  
hey_**

** _ardy_ **

** _u havin fun? caus WE sure are!!!_ **

** _wish u were here_ **

** _o wait_ **

** _u r!!!  
_ **

The next message contains a picture. Ardyn knows before he opens it what he will see.

Gladiolus, Ignis and Prompto are sprawled artfully atop the massive bed in the Prince's suite. All three are shirtless, Prompto and Ignis's slender forms reclined against the massive, tattooed bulk of Gladio. Sitting between the three, head on Ignis's lap and legs tangled with Prompto's, is...Ardyn himself.

More precisely, is Ardyn's body, equally shirtless, golden eyes mirthful and mouth twisted in a knowing smirk that is one hundred percent Noctis. The body's crimson hair is tangled and already sweat-damp. His chest is scarred and far less built than any of the four younger men, but Prompto has a hand splayed out along his barely-existent abs like they're the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

A heat throbs within Ardyn-in-Noctis's pants, immediate and primal, like a jolt of Ramuh's lightning. He's done all sorts of sensual things with these beautiful men, but something about this just _hits_ him in a way he totally hadn't expected. There's something inexplicably hot about watching from the outside as his own body gets touched and stroked and stripped by his lovers. After this meeting, Ardyn's going to take all four of them to task for pulling this little stunt. And then he's going to immediately start planning when they can do this again.

One would think, after two thousand years, he would have explored enough and tried enough and done enough things to learn all of his little kinks.

Apparently not, because Noct's cock is hard in Noct's pants and Ardyn's mind is racing and he's completely lost track of whatever is happening in this interminable, endless meeting.

Noctis's phone dings again.

Ardyn shouldn't do this. He _shouldn't._ He should turn the phone all the way off and attempt to focus. King Regis is talking now, which means some decision must have been made regarding Claustra's concerns, and Ardyn had missed it entirely.

Instead, he tunes out the king and turns as much of his attention as possible to Noctis's still-buzzing phone.

** _  
astrals ardyn this feels so good_ **

** _gettin wrecked in ur body_ **

** _ur so sensitive like...everywhere. _ **

** _think i could cum just from havin ur neck kissed _ **

Another picture: Gladio's talented tongue licking a stripe up Ardyn-Noctis's neck, leaving an absolutely lewd trail of saliva in his wake. Ignis, as delicate and careful in this as he is in everything, is gently working a hickey into the junction between the chancellor-prince's neck and shoulder. Prompto's hand is...Oh, _Astrals,_ Prompto's hand is slipping under the waistband of the impossibly complicated pants Ardyn so loves to wear, and the immortal has never wanted so intensely to simply warp out of the meeting room and dive into bed with his partners.

"Drifting off, son?" King Regis asks kindly, and Noctis's eyes widen in surprise as Ardyn mentally scrambles to pull himself together. To his utter despair, what comes slipping out of Noctis's lips is not a carefully curated retort, but a series of mumbled, incomprehensible noises and half-words. "Um..er...agh...that is...er..."

"Monica." Regis gestures to the Crownsguard officer who is standing guard at the meeting room's smaller side door. "As it seems this meeting is drawing on a bit longer than expected, and my son is beginning to show signs of fatigue, would you mind running to the kitchen and bringing us some coffee?"

"Not at all, Your Majesty." Monica begins unobtrusively circling the room, taking the various dignitaries ' coffee orders. Ardyn smothers the smirk that wants to rise to Noctis's lips as he lights on a way to get revenge for the prince's taunting.

"A large black coffee with two shots of espresso, would you please, Monica?"

The uniformed woman frowns. It is not her business to question the Prince, but - "A bit stronger than your usual order, isn't that, Your Highness?"

Ardyn lets out an long, elaborately faked yawn. "Just feeling a little drowsy," he says in the sweetest, most sugary tones he could possibly make come out of Noctis's mouth. "Want to make sure I've got the _energy_ to do, well, what needs doing."

Satisfied, Monica nods and moves on. She had bought his explanation hook, line and sinker of course - and would probably later report to Regis that his son was finally starting to care about remaining awake during meetings. Meanwhile, Ardyn was struggling not to smirk as he imagined returning Noct's body to its true owner mid-caffeine rush, practically buzzing and throbbing with energy for Ardyn to tease and stroke and fuck out of him.

_The perfect revenge for this little stunt, don't you think, Noct?_ the immortal muses internally. As Regis, Claustra, and the various minor nobles and politicians attending this interminable meaning are momentarily distracted by coffee, Ardyn dares a quick text:

** _send more pic_ **

He hates to beg. He hates anything which even begins to _sound_ like begging. He's the Chancellor of Niflheim, he should be _better_ than allowing himself to be thrown into utter distraction by four cheeky, irritating, impossibly sexy young men!

But he has received no more messages since the last picture, and the hardness in Noctis' pants shows no sign of abating. He wants more. He _needs_ more.

A message silently arrives - all text, no images. It seems Noctis is not going to give him what he wants so easily:

** _why should i _ **

Two thousand years of patience and self-discipline are barely enough to suppress a groan of frustration and arousal.

His coffee is placed in front of him. He tries to focus, tries to shut out everything but the hot, bitter taste of the beverage running down Noct's borrowed throat.

It doesn't work.

More texts, image-less, teasing:

** _i mean, its like prom says, gotta pick the perfect scene_ **

** _before takin a pic_ **

** _and theres just_ **

** _so many options_ **

** _for wreckin ur body ; ) _ **

Regis has moved on from the matter of the damaged bridge, though the stormy expression on Claustra's face indicates that she is far from satisfied. He's saying something about Lucis volunteering a retinue of hand-picked Kingsglaive members to escort Lady Lunafreya to Insomnia for the Founder's Day proceedings. An utterly unnecessary gesture, given that the girl employs Shiva herself as a handmaiden...alas, another piece of information which the young prince is "not supposed to know".

** ur really tight back there. i can barely fit one of ur own fingers, ** reads Noct's next message, and the part of "Noct's" anatomy concealed beneath his pants _twitches_ in pure lust.

** ** ** _ so i could have prom do you, i know he likes em tight_** ** **

** ** ** _but he also never shuts up about your mouth. "all those years of practice" or somethin._ ** ** **

** ** ** _apparently prom rly likes gettin bjs from u_ ** ** **

** ** ** _should i give him one now, ardyn? wdy think? _******

He _thinks_ that getting involved with these four insufferable men is simultaneously the best and worst decision he has made in his entire immortal life. They're so young, so _sheltered,_ barely allowed to travel outside of Insomnia's walls, except for official functions...and yet, somehow, they are among the most creative, inventive and kinky lovers the ancient man has ever taken.

Ardyn loves them a disturbing amount. He wants to place crowns of gold and woven flowers alike on Noctis's brow, longs to teach Ignis lost recipes of Solheim-that-was. Wants to hunt down Gilgamesh's ancient blade for Gladiolus to wield - it would look so _good,_ so _natural,_ in the tattooed Shield's strong grip. Prompto's birthday is coming up, and he's found himself debating between buying the blonde a personal Chocobo ranch or surprising him with the news that Chief Imperial Scientist Verstael Besithia had been murdered in his sleep.

Right now, though, he just wants _them._ Their bodies, their mouths, their hands, warm and pliant and real, not just teasing hints rationed out by the unfortunate realities of text message character limits.

** ** ** ** _ **  
im suckin prom w ur mouth**_ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **s bigger than mine. can fit more in. i like that. ** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **hes lovin it ardyn. u should hear these moans hes makin** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **iggy wants to suck me off at the same time** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **or would that be suck u off** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** **_**should i let him, ardyn? do u like iggys bjs? **_********

"Like" is an understatement. The advisor's tongue is as accurate and precise as everything else about him, and he was a quick study - easily learning and memorizing all of Ardyn's most sensitive spots and calculating the perfect amount of suction to drive him wild. The chancellor's first time with Ignis had led to Noctis making a joke about "old men and their stamina". (Prompto had laughed. The very next night, Ardyn had made sure to show them exactly how much "stamina" he still had in him. Their poor, sweet little asses had been sore for weeks.)

Once again, Ardyn tries to banish the tempting images from his brain and return to focusing on the meeting. The question of Luna's guards, infuriatingly enough, has _still_ not been decided, and Claustra has somehow managed to bring up the Astrals-damned bridge again by pointing out that it could possibly render the Oracle unable to make a stop in Altissia during her journey, which would of course be nothing but the greatest insult to the Secretary's proud city.

Irritation and lust spark just underneath the immortal's borrowed skin. The hairs on the back of Noctis's neck stand up straight, and Ardyn knows it's far more than the aftereffects of the caffeine.

The borrowed body's knee jitters. The king drones on.

The messages keep coming.****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _  
astrals prom was right_** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _u DO cum super fast when iggy sucks u_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _but then u like. get it right back up again_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _i dont think ive told you this enough before but_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _ur amazing ardyn_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ****_honestly _**********

Ardyn really isn't sure what it says about himself that his cheeks flush Infernian's-flames-red at the prince's affectionate affirmation. He's a confident man - surely he can't be inching towards the precipice of pleasure simply from being _praised?_ From a few compliments bestowed by his teasing, gorgeous lovers?

But _a_ breaking point is drawing near - the body's? His mind's? Both, at once, linked up somehow in a way they've never been before? Ardyn knows that he won't be able to last much longer.

The meeting shows no signs of ending, and it looks like, despite the promises he'd made to himself, it's going to be up to him to draw things to a close.

_Noctis deserves this, anyhow,_ the Chancellor thinks, allowing the slightest touch of a smirk to curl up the Prince's lips. _Revenge for this little prank, part two. _

Ardyn stands, expression returned to neutral, phone positioned just so - hidden from prying eyes behind his coffee cup, but still within his line of sight. He doesn't want to miss a thing.****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _so weve got ur mouth an ur cock occupied_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _that leaves hmm what could i be forgetting_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _o right_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _u seem pretty in need of a good fucking _ ** ** ** ** **

King Regis frowns. "Something you wish to say, Noctis?"

Ardyn clears Noctis's throat, trying to strike a tone somewhere between "confident" and "utterly bored" (an endeavor made all the more difficult by the persistent, _leaking_ hardness in the prince's underwear). "Just seems unnecessary to keep debating the same issues when there are some pretty simple solutions, at least the way I'm looking at it."****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _lucky for u - i mean me - _ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _gladdys cock just so happens to be available _**********

Claustra's lips purse and her expression narrows, turning as sour and pained as though her coffee had been spiked with chickatrice venom. "Please do share these 'simple solutions' with the rest of us, then, Prince Noctis." It's clear that she sees Ardyn's interruption as nothing more than a waste of her time.

For once, the Chancellor mentally agrees with her. This whole meeting is, in fact, a waste of _everyone's_ time.

** ** ** ** ** _do u like it , ardyn, when gladdy fucks u? _ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _i think u do. just thinkin about it makes u hard _**********

"Instead of sending a full retinue of Kingsglaive to escort Lady Lunafreya, a small, hand-picked team made up of representatives from both Lucis and the Empire would make way more sense. That way, we add more weight to that whole 'display of cooperation' thing, plus it frees Ki - Father up to increase guard deployments leading up to the festivities, since so many people will be coming to Insomnia for the celebration. Like say if we send, uh...." he pauses for a moment, pretending to consider, "Commodore Highwind and her two seconds-in-command from Niflheim, and from the Glaive, how about, hmm...Ulric and Altius? Maybe Ostium?" It's hard not to grin as he faux-casually lists the names of people he happens to know Luna would be more than happy to have as her personal guard during the journey. _You're welcome, milady Oracle,_ he thinks.

"That could work," Claustra reluctantly huffs, "but what of the bridge in Altissia? I see no mention of that in your 'simple solution,' Prince Noctis."****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _ur so big an strong, ardyn _ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _not many people who can dominate u _ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _i think thats why you like it_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _that gladio and his muscles and his big cock can _ ** ** ** ** **

"Begging your pardon, Secretary Claustra," Ardyn responds with a slight, insincere bow. "I was getting to that. It'd be an easy matter to extend the Oracle's planned visit to Altissia - it would only add a day or two to her travels, and Lady Lunafreya has expressed herself how fond she is of your fair city. While there, she could conduct a ritual entreating the Archaen's aid in repairing the bridge. Given the Oracle's past successes in regards to contacting the Astrals, it seems very likely to work - but, on the off chance that it does not, her activities will nonetheless draw attention to the issue. As popular as the Lady Oracle is, I daresay you'll find yourselves swamped with donations and offers of aid within days."****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _hes so big and ur so tight _**********

Ardyn desperately needs them to take his advice. Each text excites him, taunts him, frustrates him, winds him up and up and _up_ with no promise of release.****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **i wouldnt be sure this could even fit in u** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **i mean** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **if i hadnt seen it myself ;) ;) **_********

That is it. He will simply burst if he need stay here much longer. He turns Noctis's gaze to King Regis, mentally pleading at the man to just get on with it and admit I'm right already.

"My son's ideas...certainly merit consideration," Regis agrees at last.

(The Chancellor celebrates internally. As frustrated as he currently is, he _does_ so love being right.)

"I was unaware your son possessed such...political acumen." Claustra's gaze is shrewd. She's not going to let the topic drop, Ardyn knows. _Poor, poor Noct. If only you knew just what you were getting yourself into._****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **you can take three of his fingers** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **astrals how did i not know that** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **theres three inside me now. inside u** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **gladdys fingers are so thick, so strong** _ ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** _ **he found ur prostate on the first try **_********

"Secretary Claustra, I wish to discuss this further with yourself and Lord Ravus, since the issues at hand concern Tenebrae as well. As he is currently busy with the Founder's Day planning, might I suggest that we adjourn this meeting now, and the three of us dine together this evening?"

Claustra folds her arms. "I accept your suggestion, Regis, but might I suggest that we invite Prince Noctis as well? It is _his_ suggestions which we will be discussing, after all."

The King smiles at this. "What an excellent idea, Camelia. Noctis, you will join us in my private dining room at eight o'clock sharp, understood?"

**********_  
hes goin in so slowly_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _he says u usually like it so fast an rough_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _that he rarely gets the chance to go slow w u_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _says ur ass is the best thing hes ever felt _**********

Ardyn grits Noctis's teeth, needing to get out of there _now. _"Of course, Father," he manages to say.

Finally, at last, the blessed words leave Regis's lips: "With that concluded, I now declare this meeting officially adjourned."****** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _this is so good ardyn. _ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _gladdy behind u, fuckin u slow an good_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _iggy w ur cock in that mouth of his_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _and u lickin an suckin prom, gettin him to make those sexy noises_ ** ** ** ** **

** ** ** ** ** _i wish u could see it _**********

The King rises slowly from his chair, leaning heavily on his cane. Silently, Marshal Leonis moves to the ruler's side and began to guide him from the room. Monica, equally silently, circles the table, collecting empty coffee cups. Several of the minor nobles attempt to not-so-subtly crowd into Secretary Claustra's space and gain her attention.

For his own part, Ardyn moves as swiftly as Noctis's legs would allow him, trying his best to avoid breaking into a run as he at last exits the meeting room and heads in the direction of the Prince's suite.

He's at the foot of the stairs when Noct's phone _dings_ a final time.

The Chancellor inhabiting the Prince's body makes the mistake of glancing down at the screen, expecting another naughty text but getting so much more.

It's a picture - no, more than a simple snapshot, it's a work of erotic art. Ardyn's body is sprawled on the bed, fully nude. Prompto crouches above him, sweat pasting the gunner's usually flyaway blonde locks to the back of his neck. Just a hint of his adorable cock shows where Ardyn's lips have not quite managed to take the whole thing in.

Beneath the Chancellor's body, Ignis writhes, two slender fingers seeking his own entrance as his mouth continues to work on Ardyn's cock (the proliferation of dried white streaks along the immortal's chest indicating that he's been doing so for quite a while). He's licking moreso than sucking, that perfect tongue seeking out the spot just underneath the head which he knows can drive Ardyn absolutely wild.

And of course, behind the used, wrecked body is Gladio: tall, strong, dependable Gladio, tattooed muscles flexing as he pins Ardyn bodily in his lap. His hair has come undone from the ponytail he'd been sporting earlier, and Noctis-in-Ardyn's hands are thoroughly tangled in the dark locks. Pulling nice and tight, just like Gladio likes it. The Shield is biting an already-red spot on Ardyn's body's neck, teeth clenched so tightly he seems seconds away from drawing blood.

And on the body's face is a blissed-out, completely satisfied, thoroughly-fucked expression of pleasure which Ardyn recognizes as one hundred percent uniquely Noctis's.

Something about seeing _that_ expression on _his_ own face pushes him over the edge. Collapsing against the wall, Noctis's body climaxes, staining the black cargo pants as sparks of pure bliss explode behind Noctis's eyes and shoot through Ardyn's brain.

It's amazing. It's perfect. It's the first time he's cum while borrowing someone else's body. It's the first hands-free orgasm that the immortal can remember having at least a few centuries.

(It's still not going to be _nearly _ enough to spare those teasing boys from the pleasurable "punishment" that Ardyn has in store for him).

Quickly, the Chancellor in the Prince's body begins warping up the stairs, taking them five or six at a time, no longer caring who might see him or how ridiculous he looks. Noctis (currently unbeknownst to him) has dinner plans with his father at eight, but that still gives Ardyn _plenty _ of time to show his dear boys exactly what they'd gotten themselves into.


End file.
